Coincidence or Providence
by LightningsShadow118
Summary: When fighting to defend everything and everyone you ever cared about, you must ask yourself: When does the hunter become the hunted? -Violence and gore.-
1. Prologue

**Title:** Coincidence or Providence

**Author:** Lightnings-Shadow

**Rated:** PG-13 for extreme violence and bad language.

**Pairings:** Mild Rex/Circe

**Summary:** One must be careful when wandering empty hallways. You never know who you'll find lurking in the shadows.

**WARNING:** This story contains an OC. The focus of the story, however, is Rex. If one perceives my OC to be a Mary-Sue, then kindly let me know how soon in the story you thought so and why. I'm rational and civil; I can take constructive criticism.

I began writing this story shortly after the airing of Episode 2, "String Theory". I added in Circe after Episode 3, of course. Any resemblance this storyline has to any episodes after that is purely and utterly coincidental. Seriously. I respect Man of Action; I wouldn't stoop so low as to steal a story line from him.

**Disclaimer:** Generator Rex and all of its characters belong to Man of Action. Nameless and P.T. belong to me.

* * *

In the deepest parts of Providence headquarters, there were cells. Hallways ran seemingly for miles, lined with titanium re-enforced doors thick enough to withstand a direct bombshell. Behind the hallway doors, there were visitor rooms. One could look in on the captured Evo through a 6" thick wall of safety glass without worry. Beside the glass wall, another steel door. As long as there was an Evo to contain, at least one door had to be shut tight as a safety protocol. Should an Evo happen to attack while an outside scientist entered their cell, the Evo would only gain a bit more space to roam.

The Evos behind these doors were not the average case however. These people-turned-monsters had endangered society by choice, rather than out of pain, anger, or fear. They had rejected nanites; rejected Rex's attempts to cure them. These people posed a threat because they didn't want to be normal again. None were code-red threats though, and so didn't need to be killed. Instead, they were kept as guinea pigs against their will.

Rex had never been down to the Containment Hall until now. He brushed off the fact that he wasn't _allowed_ down here; Six surely wouldn't mind.

The light sound of his boots against the tile floor echoed around him tenfold. Rex wanted to flinch. The silence was deafening. That his sharp taps were accompanied by a soft padding beside him, though, was mutually comforting.

"You sure you wanna check these goons out, Rex?" Bobo mused, his voice low.

To be honest, Rex _wasn't_ entirely sure he wanted to. Fighting Evos was fun, yeah, but confronting Evos that probably wanted to wring his neck for getting them captured? A little awkward, and an all-around bad idea.

But the area was off-limits to him, and that alone was reason enough to do some exploring.

"Chil-ax, man," He shrugged off, trying to sound sure of himself. "It's not like I'm gonna let one out or anything."

Bobo knew Rex too well to be fooled by pseudo-confidence. Regardless, the teenager had his reasons, and they didn't always need to be explained.

"Whatever you say, Chief."

Rex rose a finger in the air and glanced back and forth between the steel doors as they passed.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."

His finger landed on a door to his right. With a little willpower, a few nanites pooled into the door's circuitry and commanded it to open.

A clear view of the glass, and the prisoner behind it, revealed a large, alligator-like creature on all fours, prowling around it's uninteresting keep. It stopped when it heard the visitor's door slide open, faced Rex, and growled.

Even though the thing's monstrous snout had a muzzle on it, Rex hesitated.

"This one's lookin' a little touchy, boss," Bobo warned. "Better try another door."

A deeper growl rolled from the gator as it prowled a little closer to the safety glass. Even if it couldn't reach Rex, it _knew_ the enemy, and it wasn't about to let said enemy think that their previous encounter had been forgotten.

Rex nodded. "I'm thinking yes, and yes."

The door slid shut, and the two resumed their walk.

Bobo raised a bushy brow at his human friend. "Remind me again what we're lookin' for?"

"Nothing specific; just someone to pass the time with," he replied, as if passing the time with a criminal Evo was the most normal thing to him.

"What, Noah unavailable or somethin'?"

"Yup. He's got a basketball game today."

After a few more paces down the hall, Rex tried a door on his left. Behind it, a cell just like the previous. Inside, though, was a slightly less monster-like Evo. This one was a guy, clearly a young adult, who had been turned into some kind of pterodactyl-like hybrid.

At the moment his clipped wings were over his face, and he was snoring.

"Guess that's a no," Rex mumbled, and reluctantly shut the door. The guy looked so promising, too.

And again, they strode down the Containment Hall.

"I wish Six were the talking type. I'd really like to ask him where he learned all his moves from. Maybe even learn a few, someday."

"Don't see The Tux Man as the teaching type. Or the talking type."

"Yeah," Rex sighed. "I guess not."

Rex put his hand to another door on his right.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said profoundly, "Door number three!"

When this door slid open, his first thought was _'Breach.'_ Almost instantly, however, he knew it wasn't. The hair was brown, a bit longer, and messier, and there was only one set of arms instead of two.

She was sitting slouched against the wall puffing at her hair, her face hidden behind it. Her hands and wrists were locked in a large steel orb in such a way that her arms had little wiggle room and bent at an uncomfortable angle. She wore a knee-long dress that looked like it had been white at one time. Now it was filthy, stained, and heavily tattered at the sleeves and skirt hem.

Rex glanced down at Bobo. Bobo glanced up at Rex. Neither of them recognized this one.

Rex shrugged. "Best one so far."

He walked in. Bobo followed.

Rex cleared his throat and pressed the button of the left wall's speaker system.

"Um, hey there!"

No reply.

Rex frowned and knocked on the glass with his knuckle. She flinched, but still didn't look at him.

"She's icin' you, man," Bobo said with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks, monkey," Rex replied. He tried the speaker system again.

"My name's Rex, and I was—"

"Didn't the zookeeper tell you _not_ to tap on the glass?"

Rex blinked.

One eye peeked through her hair to stare at him. "Seriously, the acoustics in here are deafening."

Rex blinked again. "Er, sorry?"

A grunt. She shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, the iron ball making it a bit challenging, and faced him. Rex and Bobo could now see the uncovered half of her face, and it was _pale._

The criminal Evo gave him a once-over. "Who are you?"

"Me? I guess you could say I'm in charge of the stocking around here." He was smug. "Although I don't think I've seen you around before."

She didn't reply and continued looking him up and down. She met his gaze with suspicious eyes.

"What do you want, then?"

"Just a little conversation. Nothing bad." He tried to sound nice.

The girl raised an eyebrow. Rex frowned at the gesture, thinking of Six.

He brushed it off. "So, what's your name?"

It was her turn to blink at him. "I'm Nameless."

Rex snorted. "Some name."

"Come again?" She hissed.

"I said it's nice meeting you."

Her eyes narrowed.

Bobo poked the glass. "What's with your hands? You got claws or something?"

"Claws?" She glanced down at the steel orb, blinked, and smirked at the monkey. "I suppose you _could_ say that."

Rex recoiled slightly. Her smile... something was off about it. Not false, but... wrong. It was like looking at a picture that was ever-so-slightly off-center, or listening to music through bad headphones so each loud note hits that scratchy something and makes you cringe. Then, it hit him.

There was a hint of insanity in that smile.

For some reason that brought another little factoid to the forefront, which made him pause. Providence had various devices for restraining Evos, depending on their forms. Some Evos were so strangely shaped that their restraints had to be custom made. If the girl, Nameless or whatever, had claws, then why not use something lighter like iron gloves? Wouldn't a steel ball be kind of cumbersome?

Rex's thoughts were interrupted by the overhead intercom. It was Agent Six.

_"Rex, wherever you are, report to the Meeting Bay. __**Now.**__"_

The teenager grimaced and faced Bobo. "We'd better go."

Bobo looked incredulous. "Go? You're kiddin', right?"

"Six only uses the intercom when he knows _exactly_ where I am and when he's pissed about it. He just doesn't want to waste the energy getting me. If I _don't_ go?" Rex shuddered.

Bobo shrugged. "Whatever you say, boss."

Rex nodded to Nameless. "Time to do what I do best. Guess I'll see ya later, then."

And just like that, the two were gone and the cell was quiet.

Nameless looked between her eyes at the wisp of hair she had been playing with earlier.

"He's a card, ain't he?"

A puff. The wisp flew up and fell over her nose again.

"Hmm, true. What say we go see him sooner, rather than later?"

The wisp flopped over her nose again. Nameless' eyes lit up in peevish delight.

"I hadn't even thought of it. Well then, it's a good thing P.T. is a light sleeper, now, isn't it?"

Another flop. Nameless burst out laughing.

—\/\/—

Rex and Bobo slid into the elevator, colliding with the back wall just as the doors closed. Perfect timing.

Rex splayed one hand against the wall, unleashing nanites that commanded the machine to rise. It did.

Bobo rubbed his shoulder. "Jeez, why the rush, kid?"

"Just trust me on this one, Bobo. The sooner we get to the Meeting Bay, the better."

The elevator ascended higher and higher, and Rex's foot tapped faster and faster. Finally, though, it hit the main floor, and as soon as the steel doors opened wide enough the duo bolted.

Providence agents were pushed and nudged aside as teen and monkey slid and swerved through the hallway. The Meeting Bay door was just in the realm of sight.

Rex burst through the doors, shouting, "I'm here! Six, I'm here!"

Agent Six turned and faced Rex, raised an eyebrow, and smiled at Dr. Holiday, who looked impressed.

Rex panted. "Please say you didn't. _Please._"

Six faced Rex again and tossed something small, rectangular, and silver his way. Rex caught it, relieved, and stuffed it in his right pocket.

Bobo had no clue what was going on, and just shook his head.

"So what we got, Six?"

"It's BioWulf. He's moving through New York City destroying everything in his wake."

"What? Why?"

"We're not sure," Dr. Holiday answered. "But he needs to be stopped soon before any civilians get hurt."

Rex eyed the silver and blue blur flashing on the enormous video screen before him. The creature bounded through the city leaving totaled cars, shattered windows, and hysterical people everywhere it went.

"So what're we waiting for? Let's take him down!"

Bobo grinned. "I've been waitin' for some action all day."

"Good," Six said. "Because you two will be on your own this time."

Rex spun away from the screen. "What, you're not coming?"

"I need to stay and take care of some urgent business with White Knight. Besides, Rex, I think you can handle _one Evo._"

Rex blinked, then smirked. "Then let's do this."

"The Keep is ready for you. Good luck, you two."


	2. Failure To Comply

**Chapter One: Failure To Comply**

The teenaged hero laughed like a crazy kid as he fell towards the city with arms spread wide. The wind against his face was freeing like nothing he'd ever felt before. The way his gut did little flip-flops was a strange thrill; a wild roller coaster ride. It was a euphoric high you simply could not put in a capsule, patch, joint, needle, or powder, and Rex couldn't get enough of it.

Bobo was hanging onto his back for dear life, not quite as thrilled by his stomach's flip-flops.

"Yo boss! Where them wings at!"

It was enough to snap Rex back to reality. He didn't want to, he _really_ didn't want to, but Bobo had feelings, and Rex cared about those feelings. He lowered his goggles over his eyes.

_Nanites, Wings._

Steel plates lined his back and forearms. Metal materialized and took shape – like magic – to form the arcs and engines of his Boogie Pack. Bobo let go just long enough for the main power core, the backpack, to materialize. The chimp clung back moments after.

Skyscraper rooftops soared closer and closer; faster than they could react. Rex nearly crashed his left engine into one towering business building, and likely would have had he not barrel-rolled aside.

"C'mon, Rex! Punch it!"

He did.

The thrusters' power slammed into the air beneath them with roaring ferocity. Rex gained full control over their movement through the air, and redirected their momentum forward so that they flew.

It didn't take him long to find Lexington Ave. and follow it southwest. He radioed in to Dr. Holiday.

"Alright, I'm in New York."

"Good," she replied through his earpiece. "I'm picking up Evo activity just a few hundred feet south of you. You should be getting a visual any moment now."

Rex kept his eyes sharp and sure enough, there was BioWulf heading northeast.

"Got him."

The teen soared straight towards the enemy Evo. Once close enough, he deactivated his Boogie Pack - Bobo let go and landed on a street car's hood - and activated his Smackhands.

"Incoming!"

It was a direct hit. The collision was massive, destructive, and deadly.

Once he landed, Bobo ran to Rex's side, pistols at the ready. "Nicely done, kid."

The glory was short-lived. A roar shook the earth around them, and BioWulf, nearly unfazed by the surprise attack, dove out of the dust cloud surrounding him and charged Rex full-throttle.

Bobo saw it before Rex could even react. He cocked his pistols and blasted BioWulf's solar plexus and stomach. BioWulf howled and flew sideways, his momentum and focus thrown.

Rex blinked and stared at him as he crashed into some distant building. Rex smirked.

"Thanks, Bobo. Now let's get him."

Bobo blew the smoke from his pistols. "Right behind ya."

BioWulf grunted as he emerged from the rubble. "Well, if it isn't Rex. Come to save the day again when your presence isn't wanted?"

"You bet," he shouted. Rex's Smackhands morphed away and were replaced by the Slam Cannon. He launched the maw back into the road and blasted the hunk of solid tar at BioWulf, who leapt aside at the last moment.

Rex winced when the chunk smashed a few windows in the building behind. He'd get an earful from Six for that.

BioWulf prowled closer to the teen. Rex aimed the Slam Cannon once more, ready for the Evo to charge him. BioWulf didn't, though.

"While I would enjoy nothing more than to stay and tear you limb from limb, Rex, I have important matters to attend to. I _suggest_ you stay _out of my way._"

With that, BioWulf took off northeast.

Rex narrowed his eyes. "Oh, no you don't!"

At the sound of metal against metal, BioWulf glanced back. An orange vehicle, the Rex Ride, had activated a locomotive-like battering ram, which collided with his back. BioWulf was launched forward, airborne, roaring in some unintelligible tongue. As he fell, a massive metal foot kicked him in midair, square in the back, and sent him hurtling into yet another building. Glass and metal and concrete exploded around him, cloaking him yet again.

Rex landed, powered down, and smirked his smuggest smirk.

"No one runs away from Rex."

Bobo caught up to his friend. "Hey, don't I get to have some fun?"

Rex gestured with a smile, closed eyes, and high brows. "But of course, my simian friend. Have at him."

BioWulf groaned, sat up, and cradled his head. His spine, though clad in metallic armor, creaked painfully, and his ears were ringing. He blinked to clear his vision, seeing a blur of orange and black in the distance, and an approaching brown blob.

He growled, low and bestial, and rose from the rubble-littered concrete. Chunks of rock and glass fell from his shoulders and hair. "Very well then, Rex. if it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get."

—\/\/\—/\/\/—

Providence agents had their hands full back at headquarters. A captive Evo had gotten loose.

The pterodactyl-hybrid screeched and shielded its face as bullets bombarded its leathery flesh. One swoop of it's massive wings knocked away most of their guns. Another swoop knocked them all against the wall hard enough to knock them out cold.

One agent managed to send a distress signal, requesting backup, before loosing consciousness.

P.T. looked up the hallway. No more agents. He looked down the hallway. No more agents. The coast was clear.

He knelt down to one of the agents and took up his access card. Approaching one containment cell farther down, the Evo swiped the card through the security reader. The door beeped in recognition and opened.

Nameless looked up from behind the glass, saw the creature, and smiled a cruel, twisted smile.

"P.T. You've awakened from your coma?"

The pterodactyl-hybrid pouted. "You know how hard it is to get my beauty sleep in these cold, metal, prison cells they keep us in."

"Oh, do I." She chuckled, bitter.

P.T. swiped the card through the second security lock, opening the main cell door. Nameless struggled to stand with the weight of the steel orb, but once she was up she jogged out to her towering friend's side with ease.

Alarms sounded overhead, loud and piercing. Nameless pretended not to notice, while P.T. winced and covered his sensitive ears. They both evacuated the cell.

"I was beginning to think you'd never show."

"Oh, come on. When have I ever given you a reason to doubt my abilities?"

"I can think of a few times. Like that time we fled Copper City together and you dropped me plum into Lake Superior!"

"You were _on fire!_"

"That's not the point."

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. Nameless and P.T. stopped and faced the hall's end, ready to fight. Louder and louder it grew; more rapid, the steps became.

Rows upon rows of Providence agents appeared before them and behind them, as many as could fit in the narrow hall, with their guns cocked and aimed well. The backup had finally arrived.

Nameless' eyes scanned both sides for one specific soldier, and sighed in relief when she didn't find him.

P.T. leaned down a bit. "So, ah, what's the game plan?"

"Take them down quickly... and, ah... and then, we'll... uh, hmm... Y'know, let's just play it by ear. Shall we?"

"Sounds good."

The agents raised their weapons. The two braced themselves for a barrage. Then, to the Evos' surprise, the front side – the agents in the direction of the elevator – moved. They filed aside to allow easy walking room for... for...

"Oh, no." Nameless murmured. P.T. gulped.

Hands in coat pockets, lips wearing the ever-present frown, was Agent Six.

The silence resonated for what felt like ages. Both sides stared at one another motionless, watching, planning, waiting for the first move to be made.

Through his glasses, Six glared at Nameless and P.T.; pierced through their confidence in this plan they had. He didn't tell his agents to fire. Not yet. He wasn't afraid to, though. He dared the escapees to attack; with his eyes, he challenged them.

His glasses shone white in the hallway's fluorescent lighting. "Prisoner 06823, a.k.a. Abigail Watson."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Prisoner 06824, a.k.a. Peter Torrance."

P.T. cowered slightly.

"Failure to come quietly," Six continued. "Will result in serious consequences. Comply, and you will avoid any punishments White Knight may have for you."

Nameless ground her teeth. She should've known he'd show up; he _always_ showed up. She then noticed the strand of hair over her nose. She blew on it and listened. A slow, toothy grin crept over her. P.T. saw it and stood straighter.

"Sorry, but we aren't going anywhere."

"Except, perhaps, out of here."

The pterodactyl Evo threw out both of his wings, sending two massive gusts of wind at the soldiers on both sides. They cringed against it, temporarily distracted, while Nameless charged forward. The orb weighed her down immensely, but running with the wind gave her a slight leg up.

It wasn't enough. Six, unaffected by the gust, whipped out his katanas and ran at Nameless full speed. She reared back and threw her orb's weight at his head, but he ducked out of the way too soon. Taking advantage of her brief imbalance, he twisted into a sweep kick, throwing her off her feet and onto the ground hard.

It happened so fast that Nameless barely had time to do more than shriek as she hit the floor, dazed.

With the smaller Evo out of the way, Six ran for P.T.

P.T. was shocked at Nameless' swift defeat, but not enough to just stand there. He screeched at Six, only loud enough to disorient him. The acoustics of the stainless steel hall, however, amplified the noise considerably.

Six cringed and covered his ears, and in his pain, dropped his katanas. The Providence agents cried out and covered their own ears. Many dropped their weapons. Other soldiers that were more capable, more tolerant, began shooting at P.T.

Nameless blinked, dazed. She rolled onto her side and grunted when she saw little drops of red on her orb. Licking her lips brought a familiar copper taste, and a sharp sting. A busted lip. Manageable. She stood and faced the frontal soldiers shooting at her friend.

P.T. stopped screaming when the bullets rained down on him. Nothing penetrated, as his skin was far too thick for their bullets, but there was definitely pain and plenty of it. He covered himself and attacked the rear flank with his powerful wings, trusting Nameless to take care of the other half.

Six uncovered his ears and retrieved his katanas, intent on subduing the pterodactyl. He didn't get to though.

A sickening _crack_ ripped through the air behind him. Six faced the front flank and found one, no, two agents on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. The pterodactyl would have to wait.

Nameless dodged the gun butt aimed at her stomach and swung her orb at the offending agents head. _CRACK._ Steel met skull with a lethal ferocity and down he went, leaving blood caked on the restraining metal.

That gave Providence agents full right to shoot at her.

Agent Six, however, was faster.

His katanas came down on her, but she ducked and darted away from him and the agents before the blow landed. She stood, hunched and sore, staring up at Six with a snarl.

"Why must you always interrupt my fun, Mr. Six?"

He swung at her with both swords, and she ducked. He jabbed to the chest, and she deflected it with her weight. She kicked at him, which he blocked. She tried to swing her orb up and get him in the jaw, but without any running momentum the weight was far too heavy to give the move any surprise. Six just leaned back.

P.T. had knocked out a substantial number of agents. Enough that, instead of using their guns, some pulled out the taser rods. But none could get within zapping range without risking a slap of leathery wing flesh hurtling them some five meters.

One agent, however, managed to slide around, careful of P.T.'s flapping wings, and zap him from behind.

P.T. threw his head back and _screamed_ as his body shook and jolted. It was as if every last little nerve was being stabbed with syringes shooting liquid fire into his blood. Too much pain, too much.

It then flashed through his mind, if only fleetingly, that there was a _cause_ behind this pain. His hand, his wing, jolted back without thought or control, smacking the incredulous agent's hand and sending the taser rod flying.

Agent Six stepped back once, twice, thrice as the steel orb swung left, right, and left again, each cumbersome attack followed by a strained grunt. This was easier than he'd anticipated. He knew Nameless to be an impish yet brutal fighter, but with that orb around her hands and wrists she was practically powerless. All he had to do was dodge and deflect and wait until she wore herself out. With her scrawny arms carrying that heavy thing, she'd likely be getting tired pretty soon.

Nameless was staring daggers at him in an almost peevish way – did she think this was a game? – until suddenly she screamed, arched up, and fell to the floor in a heap of dress and hair and metal, jolting and seizing. Six saw why.

"Nameless!" P.T. shouted, realizing exactly what he had done.

Her massive and violent shaking, being of such a small build, quickly shook the taser rod off of her body. She went still, aside from slight twitching of remnant electricity. Her eyes were glazed over, staring off into some unknown space, vacant of emotion.

Six's brows furrowed. "I was afraid of that."

He moved away from her, katanas poised, and urged the other soldiers to do the same. It wasn't because of the electricity.

The orb encasing her hands and wrists beeped. A jagged, vertical line appeared along it, dividing the casing in two. The halves fell open.


	3. Sleep

**Chapter Two: Sleep**

Human hands. No claws; not even sharper-than-average nails. Just plain, soft, human hands.

P.T.'s eyes lit up before he slammed another soldier against the wall. Nameless was free. They would be out of here in a flash! Victory was theirs!

Steadily, surely, Nameless regained consciousness. She slid her arms in close, groaned in pain, and struggled to stand. Once up, she rubbed her red wrists, only thinking to herself, _Yes, yes, yes, finally, finally, free at last, yes..._

And then her eyes caught Agent Six.

For a second, one eon-long-yet-lightning-fast second, their eyes met. Nothing was said. Nothing needed saying. Every emotion they felt towards one another – anger, pity, disappointment, loss, respect, hurt, betrayal, vengeance, regret – communicated in that one precious moment. It was as if time had stopped.

Then... _Twick!_

Nameless shouted in pain and ripped the tranquilizer dart from her neck. A few drops of blood fell.

Colors. Haze. Cloudiness. She blinked, swayed. Nameless tried to hunch her shoulders and growl at him, snarl at how he had deceived her again, but it came out gurgled and ugly. It was all she could do not to fall over right there and sleep. Gods knew she wanted to.

P.T. wasn't having it, though.

"Nameless!"

Through the haze of the drug, she saw the blob of green move away as she fell. No, wait—no, no, she didn't fall, something picked her up. She was moving, but not on her own will. No, someone had her. Leathery flesh... it was P.T.

Little black and white spots shouted and ran away as P.T. charged forward through the flanks, swatted away the soldiers and fought for an escape, but the sounds were distant, far away; in another world, even...

P.T. slid and slammed his wing-like fist against the elevator's 'close' button three or four times. The metal walls slid closed but not fast enough, and a few bullets from distant guns snuck through the cracks. P.T. covered Nameless' body.

Then, the only sound around them was that of the humming elevator sinking. Blissful peace.

P.T. panted, stared at Nameless, her face sickly, gurgling and blinking, struggling to stay awake when every shred of her wanted to slip away. He smiled despite himself. They were safe for now.

"Oh, oh, Nameless. Stay with me. Please, don't fall asleep. I'm the only one allowed to sleep like a rock, remember." He laughed nervously. Nameless managed to huff; a weak laugh.

The elevator descended further. He watched the floor counter, scared. "Nameless, please, hear me. I need you to stand, now. You must stay awake. If you sleep, you won't wake up, no matter what I do. I need you to guide me, now. I don't know this place. Please, Nameless—Nameless! No, don't close your eyes!"

The doors opened. P.T. stepped out, Nameless still in his arms, into what looked like some kind of indoor jungle. The pterodactyl whimpered. He sure hoped this jungle didn't have any wild cats. After all, his wings were clipped.

"Nameless, please, I beg of you, don't leave me alone here. I don't think either one of us will make it if you sleep now."

Nameless blinked. Her eyes were still glazed, hazy, on P.T., but there was no recognition; no reply.

P.T. panicked and shook her a bit. "Nameless? Nameless! Don't sleep! Please, you _mustn't_ sleep on me!"

A hissing noise from her throat, and her eyes rolled shut.

P.T.'s shoulders fell. "Oh, dear."

_Boom._

P.T. spun around. A titanium door slammed down over the elevator door. Three substandard locks slid into place.

He did nothing for a long time, the magnitude of the situation washing over him. Then he huffed. He looked up towards the Petting Zoo's ceiling, and to the skies above.

"Are you trying to say something? Because there are much _easier_ ways."

—

Six swore under his breath when his earpiece screeched on. It was White.

_"Six, what happened."_

"The prisoners got away, sir. They've taken the main elevator down to the Petting Zoo."

_"__**Prisoners.**__ You mean __**more**__ than one escaped?"_

"Affirmative."

A long pause.

_"... Did __**she**__ escape?"_

He opened his mouth, but then shut it. He closed his eyes. Six knew what was coming.

_"Six."_

"Yes, sir. She escaped."

_"Where is she now?"_

"The Petting Zoo, sir."

_"Lock down the whole zoo. Don't let her escape at any cost. I want her found and taken down."_

"... Sir—"

_"Six, I don't care who she was. She isn't that person anymore. She's a monster now, and as a Providence agent, you __**kill**__ monsters."_

"... Roger that, Sir. Six out."

He terminated the signal.

Farther down the hall, the defeated agents were recuperating. Painkillers were administered, casts applied, open wounds cleaned... and bodies bagged. The occasional grunt of pain surfaced here and there, but it was mostly quiet aside from that.

Six slid his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor. He didn't like how White Knight could care less about the people behind these monstrous forms. He didn't like how White thought of this, curing and helping people, as 'fighting a war'. He didn't like how White manipulated people into obeying his whims. He didn't like how White had so easily forgotten who Nameless had been five years ago.

He didn't like how White Night thought Rex was an 'it'.

_You can't 'befriend' a weapon. You can only use it._

Six had once been told that the right choice can be wrong if it's made for the wrong reason. Providence chose to fight Evos and restore them, saving thousands of lives daily. But why?

Because Knight thought Evos were thoughtless monsters.

_Five years of living in a global __**freak show**__ and that kid's our only way out._

Six didn't like it. Not one bit.

He put his finger to his earpiece. "Six to SidOpps; lock down the Petting Zoo immediately. Prisoners have escaped."

_"Roger that, Agent Six sir."_

—\/\/\—/\/\/—

Rex swung at Biowulf, right, left, right, leaving massive craters in the road when he missed. Biowulf dodged and tackled Rex, throwing the teen onto his back. Rex yelped, his head slamming against the pavement _hard._

Black stars danced around his vision for about two seconds, clearing just soon enough for Rex to grab the claws that came at his neck.

He growled through gritted teeth, "What... did Van Kleiss... _send_ you for!"

Biowulf laughed, low and rough. "Your little friend from Cabo Luna stuck her nose in where it didn't belong."

_That_ snapped him straight. "Circe...!"

"I've been instructed to terminate the useless whelp. And once I find her, I promise I'll do just that."

Anger. Fury. Rage ten times stronger than anything he'd felt in a long time.

_Punk Busters._

Rex threw the claws aside as his Smackhands deflated and rammed the spiked heels of his steel boots into BioWulf's chest. The Evo was thrown off of his prey, howling in pain. When he rammed into the ground this time, he didn't rise.

Bobo cocked his pistols and pointed them at BioWulf's head, looking to Rex for the signal.

Rex stood and leered down at the Pack's leader. "Where's Circe?"

BioWulf glared back up at him, a slight smirk in his tone. "If I knew, then my job here would be done."

Oh, the need to pulverize BioWulf was almost impossible to hold back.

_kssshhhh– "Rex!"_

Rex blinked, his fury put on hold at the sound of Dr. Holiday's voice. He put his finger to the earpiece.

"What's up, Doc?"

_"I've just received orders from White Knight. You need to return to base now. There's been a security breach."_

"A security breach?" Rex echoed, then growled. "BioWulf was a distraction!"

"Oh boy," Bobo muttered, shaking his head.

"What are you talking about?" BioWulf asked. "Van Kleiss didn't send anyone to attack Providence. And I doubt Circe is there."

Rex blinked, then touched the earpiece again. "What kind of a security breach are we talking about here?"

_"It doesn't matter, Rex; report back now. We need you here."_

"But what about BioWulf?"

_"I'm suspending the mission for now. Don't worry about it."_

"What! You can't do that!"

_"I'm sorry, Rex. It's not my call."_

The connection was terminated.

His hand dropped. This couldn't be happening. Circe was in trouble – a chance to _see_ her again! – and there was a security breach. He'd be _damned_ if he was going back to Providence.

Rex willed his nanites into control. They disassembled the Punk Busters and reassembled to form his trusted B.F.S., which he stuck right in BioWulf's face.

"You're not telling us everything. Where's Circe?"

BioWulf narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Rex shoved the blade closer, pressing it to BioWulf's neck. "Talk, or get minced."

Bobo couldn't deny that he was impressed. The kid really meant business here. A part of the chimp wondered if Rex would actually... y'know, _decapitate_ BioWulf if he didn't comply. Now _that_ would be cool.

BioWulf blinked slowly, never once looking away.

Then... "I was chasing her before you showed up. But she's probably long gone by now."

His eyes lit up. So she was in New York! She was close!

Without even thinking, he swapped the B.F.S. out for his Boogie Pack and took to the skies, heading northeast.

"Wha– Oi! Where ya goin'!" Bobo shouted. He wasn't sure he could handle BioWulf on his own.

BioWulf chuckled, dark and acidic. "He actually fell for it."

—

Rex knew he shouldn't fly so low, but he needed to see the people; needed to _find_ her.

_I told her she was getting mixed up with the wrong guys, didn't I? I told her she would be better off with Providence. But did she listen? NooOOOooo..._

But Rex forgave her. Maybe now that The Pack had kicked her out, she'd come back to Providence with Rex. They could be mission partners! Maybe he could even convince White Knight to give her a room next to his. Then they could visit each other whenever, and no one would even mind!

_Eh?_

A warehouse down below. The main garage door, where the truck deliveries were made, was wrecked; bent inward sharply and torn, as if a car had crashed into it. But a car wasn't the culprit here. The dent was... something Rex couldn't place from far away.

He steered towards the wrecked scene, descended, and landed. Removing his goggles, he examined the damaged metal.

The door itself was about two stories tall, and the dent's focal point, the point where the impact had been strongest, lay in the center of the door; taller than any car. The shape, too, was suspicious. Perfectly circular, perfectly rippled, as if it had been purposely crafted that way.

Rex knew his metals, and he knew how they damaged when exposed to various forces of nature. This door had been torn apart with a sound wave. A _powerful_ sound wave.

No doubt in his mind; Circe had been here.

Rex was too determined to see his old friend to leave any stone unturned.

Since the door had been dented back far enough, Rex just squeezed past the metal and into the warehouse. Blackness immediately consumed his world, broken only by the rays of daylight peeping around the edges of the garage door. Either this warehouse was abandoned, or closed. Most likely the former, as dust hung heavy in the air and on the floor.

Rex walked, expecting his steps to echo loud and clear. The sound was muffled however. That's how thick the dust was; how old the warehouse was.

"Hello?" His voice reverberated off the metal walls that seemed so far away in the darkness. Naturally, there was no reply.

"Circe?"

The loud slap of slimy flesh against dusty metal echoed loud and clear from around the center of the warehouse. Something was with him. It didn't sound like Circe.

A gargled, mutant voice rolled forth. "What're you doin' here, kid!"

Rex narrowed his eyes, even though he couldn't see. "Skalamander. Where's Circe!"

The darkness was silent. No movement, no reply. Rex gritted his teeth. "You can't fool me, Skalamander; Circe was here! Where is she!"

A thundering cackle erupted from the rogue Evo. "Give up, kid! She ain't into you!"

"Oh, and you would know?"

"Yeah, I would!"

Rex heard the shower of crystals launch and dove-rolled to the side in the nick of time. His Smackhands emerged, but he didn't attack. How could he when he was fighting blind?

Skalamander cackled. "What's a'matter, too dark for ya? Not for me!"

The lizard Evo ran at him — _slap, slap, slap, slap_ — crystal fist poised. Rex _heard_ him run, and swung at the noise as hard as he could. Right to the face, left to the stomach.

Skalamander grunted in pain, stumbled back, but Rex wasn't done. He ran at the pained noise and unleashed an uppercut that surely cracked something, and a slam to the solar plexus, throwing him off his feet.

Skalamander's massive body slapped against the cold metal floor, bouncing weakly before falling still. The lizard was out cold. Rex deactivated his Smackhands and left the creature. He wasn't here to fight.

As his eyes adjusted (the lack of light turned everything into barely more than a smudged silhouette), he saw what accompanied him within the warehouse. A few boxes lay scattered, some on their side, carelessly thrown open. Clumps of dust bunnies and cobwebs decorated the floor and walls. Nothing else.

"Man, this place has seen better days," he muttered.

There was nothing and no one in the building but Skalamander and Rex. None of the walls were dented or ripped, and there was no sign of any fight, aside from the most recent one, as far as Rex could tell.

"Circe!" He called again.

...

One more time. "Hello?"

...

Rex's shoulders fell. The dent in the door... she _must've_ been here... and Skalamander... Rex must've just missed her.

He sighed and turned to leave.

"Mmmmhhh..."

Rex stopped dead. Shifting, slow and pained, but it wasn't Skalamander. This was farther back and smaller; more human.

Rex darted in the direction of the groan, squinting through the pitch-black to see who was there. He stopped running and listened again.

"Hello? Is someone there!"

Another groan. Rex faced it and moved to the voice, trying his damnedest to distinguish the person's sillhouette through the blackness.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

"Nnnnnngh... Mmmnnn... Rex?"

It was Circe.


	4. Panic Button

**Chapter Three: Panic Button**

"Circe! Are you okay!"

The groggy teen lifted a hand to her face and rubbed. "Uh... y-yeah... I think so..."

Suddenly, her eyes shot open. "Skalamander! Where is he! Is he here!"

"Relax, Circe," He took her hand to help her up. "I took care of it. He's knocked out. What happened?"

She rose with difficulty, still cradling her head. "It's the Pack, Rex. Van Kleiss, he sent them out to kill me!"

"So I've heard. I was sent to stop BioWulf from destroying the city. He mentioned something about you poking around where you shouldn't have."

Fear filled her eyes. "Rex, you have to help me. That monster back at Cabo Luna was one thing, but I can't fight The Pack alone. Not all three of them. Please, Rex, you have to help me!"

"I will, but only if you agree to come back to Providence with me."

"What? Rex, I told you—"

"You thought The Pack would accept you and now they're trying to kill you. Providence is _safe,_ Circe. We can _protect_ you from Van Kleiss and The Pack. Trust me."

A bang against the door made them turn. A fuzzy shadow slid around the dented garage door, revealing a panicky Bobo.

"Thanks a ton for leavin' me high an' dry there, boss!"

Circe's eyes went wide. "A talking chimp?"

"Oh, yeah! I haven't introduced you to—"

Bobo waved his hands. "Intro's later! We got us a problem!"

Massive claws raked through the dented metal, piercing the darkness with spears of light that blinded Rex and Circe. Bobo ran away from the door and whipped out his pistols. When a second pair of claws ripped through, Bobo shot at them. The claws grabbed the door and pried it _off_ the building, flooding the warehouse with light as BioWulf tossed the scrap metal aside.

Circe shrank back, though she hadn't meant to. Rex sneered.

BioWulf chuckled. "So. I see you found Circe for me." He glanced over to see a passed out Skalamander and sighed, shaking his head. "Ugh. Even _if_ he found you first, he's hopeless."

"I won't let you hurt her, BioWulf!"

The creature laughed in his face. "Well, we'll see about that, now won't we?"

BioWulf moved like lightning, but Rex moved faster. As he lunged at the two, Rex grabbed Circe and dove aside as his Boogie Pack spawned, grabbed air, and lifted them to the other side of the warehouse. They just barely dodged BioWulf's claws.

Bobo galloped after them. "Hey, wait up!"

BioWulf snarled and pursued them. Rex swooped down so Bobo could leap onto his back, and dove out the garage doorway. The light hit them hard but on they flew, up, over, and far away from the warehouse.

Far away from the world.

The clouds were soon just beneath them. The air was just thin enough that they could feel it in their chests. A lone crow glided by beneath them.

Rex hugged Circe close and Circe hugged back tight, mostly out of fear. She wasn't afraid he would drop her, she trusted him, but she was still pretty tense after everything that had just happened. Rex could feel it, too.

"You sure you're alright?"

Circe couldn't see his face that well, as her cheek was pressed to his collarbone, but she could hear that he was genuinely concerned.

"I'll be fine. Really."

"Okay..."

An awkward silence encompassed the three of them.

_Kssshhhh– "Rex! Where are you!"_

Rex flinched. "Hang on tight," he told Circe before letting go with one arm to trigger the earpiece. She obeyed.

"I'm on my way back, Doc. I just had to pick someone up first."

Circe blinked. "What?"

"Oh, and BioWulf shouldn't be on the rampage anymore." _Oh yeah,_ he thought. _Who finished the mission in time? I did. Who's awesome? I am, I so totally am._

_"Pick someone up?"_

"It's Circe; The Pack's hunting her down. I'm bringing her back to Providence for protection."

"Rex, no! I told you, I don't—"

Rex eyed her and mouthed 'Not now'. She leered at him.

_"Fine. The Keep should be there already. When you get back, leave Circe with me and head straight for the Petting Zoo. Once we get the prisoners back in their cells, we'll talk to White Knight about what to do with Circe."_

"Alright. See you soon, Doc," he purred, and terminated the connection, hugging Circe again. Bobo cackled.

"I don't want to go back to Providence with you." Circe stated, lifting her head to look him dead on the eye.

"If you want The Pack to leave you alone, then you will."

"I don't belong there, Rex! I told you, it's not my life!"

"Circe, it's only for _protection._ This doesn't have anything to do with my offer back in Cabo Luna... That offer _is_ still open, by the way," he added, and smiled.

Circe huffed at him and rested her cheek once again on his collarbone. Rex's smile fell away.

"Circe, I wouldn't do this if I didn't care about you. And besides, I have to get back to headquarters to help out with some security issues."

"So that's why you didn't grind up that metal head," Bobo remarked.

Through layers upon layers of clouds they flew until The Keep was in sight. An ariel hatch opened up for them to enter through. Once they were all inside, Rex deactivated his metal wings. A couple agents came to escort them to the passenger bay.

Once there and settled in their seats, Circe suddenly spoke. "Uh, I almost forgot... thanks... for getting me out of there, I mean."

Rex smirked and leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Any time, _hermosa._"

When Circe didn't know how to react, Bobo laughed outright.

—\/\/\—/\/\/—

P.T. darted through the massive trees, panting hard and panicking. He hadn't the slightest clue where he was going, or what he was going to do. Nameless was out cold, Providence's finest were after them, they were both trapped in a godforsaken _greenhouse,_ and his wings were clipped. Well, this day was going just fine and dandy, now wasn't it.

As P.T. ran, his partner's body in his arms bridal-style, he puzzled over the best move to make next.

_It's safe to assume that we weren't followed in here, but if the elevator door locked us in, then somebody certainly knows we're here. That means more agents will come for us. Until Nameless wakes up, I'm going to have to be the thinker and find some way out of this facility. Oh, if only Nameless were awake. This would be so much easier... ugh, why is she so heavy? ... Oh, good Gods! And why does she smell so bad! Yegh! Hasn't she ever heard of a sho– ... ooohhh... that's why._

P.T. slowed down when he saw some very large leaves forming a dome-like haven off the path. _I'm sorry, my tattered bluebell, but I cannot carry you and still hope to succeed in escaping._ He laid the girl down beneath the sheltering leaves of the plant. _These are Elephant Ear plants... Colocasia gigantea... or, no, is it Colocasia affinis? Oh, it doesn't matter. They're big enough to hide her until she wakes up. She'll be safe from searching eyes._

He stepped back, away from the plant, mindful of his wings. Upon observation, he was happy to find that the Elephant Ear plant hid her completely. The only way someone would find her here would be if someone deliberately parted the leaves to look.

_I promise to come back for you, Nameless. I won't leave Providence without you._ Satisfied, P.T. rushed onward. His first priority was finding a way to fix his clipped wings.

Birds with feathered wings would simply have their alpha feathers cut short, deforming the aerodynamic shape of the wing and making any lengthly flight nearly impossible until the creature molted and re-grew it's feathers. With pterodactyls, however, things weren't as easy. While a pterodactyl's wings retained the same aerodynamic shaping as a bird's, it's physical qualities were more like those of a bat's. This meant that clipping the wings was far more permanent and far more _painful_ than a simple snip of the feathers. The actual flesh of the wing had to be cut and healed apart.

P.T. grimaced down at the slits that flopped around as he ran. They began far out, near the tips of the wings, and followed the arc of his wing. Clever on their part. Had they made a shorter cut from the rim straight in to the center, the wings could be easily repaired. With this, he had huge flaps of skin hanging around, and the repair would need careful hands. It wouldn't be easy for him to fix them himself.

Through the jungle he ran, past trees and bushes and several dwelling Evo specimens – _don't be seen, mustn't be seen!_ – running blind, trying as hard as he could to think of a way to repair his—

He skidded to a stop and leaned against a nearby tree, panting hard. _This isn't going to work. Running won't do me any good. I need to be able to think as clearly as possible if I want to find anything soon._

Something stirred nearby. P.T.'s head shot up at full alert, eyes and ears sharp.

...

Nothing...

A branch lashed out and caught him by the leg, yanking him off the ground and upside down in front of four big, black eyes. Eyes that were... on... the tree.

P.T. blinked. The tree blinked back.

"Uhhh... Heh... ah, hello there!" P.T. waved.

A guttural moan rolled from the tree, and it slammed P.T. against the dirt. He grunted, and cried out again when the tree picked him back up and threw him down even harder.

"Ow! Hey!"

Lifted him up... _wham!_

"Ow! Quit it!"

Up... and _wham!_

"D'oof! Oww..."

The tree then tossed him over its head(?), discarding the new toy, for it wasn't that fun anyways.

P.T. tumbled through the air, screaming and flailing like a fish out of water before getting caught by another distant —and thankfully, normal — tree's branches. Leaves and a few little bugs immediately stuck in his long, cozy, blonde hair.

He blew a few strands out of his face. Well, lovely. This was just — nrrrgh! — lovely. Now he was a tree's plaything. A _tree's_ plaything! How much more pathetic could one feel?

P.T. jolted and grabbed for a branch when he felt himself slip, but he wasn't fast enough.

"Whoa– Gyaah!" _Thump._

More leaves stirred and fell around him. Lovely.

A ladybug fell and landed on the tip of his nose. It staggered, but kept its footing and climbed up the bridge. P.T. gently brought a finger to the bug, which it happily boarded. When he lifted his finger to view the little insect, it opened its wings and flew off. P.T. sighed and sat cross-legged, chin in palm.

"I really wish my wings weren't clipped. Things would be so much easier if I could fly. Or fly _far,_ as it be."

Who was he kidding? This was hopeless. There was nothing he could mend his wings with here. He was in a giant Evo cage, for Pete's sake! What could he possibly—

There. Was it...? No, it couldn't be... the plant is too rare... no, it _had_ to be! Hope fluttered in his chest when he saw the giant, grass-green roses covered in peach fuzz.

P.T.'s mind worked furiously to decipher what he was seeing. _Aeonium Balsamifera. The Immortal Aroma Rose. An extremely rare flower that grows off of a branch that sprouts straight out of the ground. Known best for it's mind-numbing aroma, but is also used for its sap, which takes on a rubber cement-like strength once dry._

In other words, he had just spotted the answer to his troubles.

P.T. scrambled onto his feet and ran for the flower cluster. Oh, what a sweet victory this was! He held his breath and searched the cluster for the tallest, fattest branch/stem, uprooted it, and carefully twisted the flower off. Tossing it aside, he laid out his left wing and aligned the cut skin. P.T. then broke the branch over his knee. A few stringy rivulets of sap hung between the splintered ends and didn't give way; a sure sign that the flower was healthy and ripe.

Smiling, P.T. used his free hand to pour the sticky stuff over the break and smear it in between the skin. Once done, he lifted the wing gingerly and blew on the cut. To his surprise, the sap dried almost instantly. P.T. shook the wing a little. The organic glue held strong. He grabbed the skin and pulled. The sap didn't even stretch. It was as if his wing had never been clipped at all.

_Amazing. Mother Nature's very own super glue._

A bang echoed throughout the Petting Zoo. P.T. spun in the sound's direction. Boots could faintly be heard crunching through gritty soil, grass, and water. Soldiers were coming.

P.T. knew he'd have to be quick. Laying his right wing out on the dirt, he used the branch's other half to seal the cut. Just as before, he smeared the sap all over, blew on it, and just as before, the sap dried fast and held strong.

P.T. stood up and opened his wings, examining and admiring them. They looked perfect, he thought. He flapped them, testing how they felt when used. _My, my, they're good as new._

The sound of boots grew louder from behind him. Adrenaline and panic coursed through him; they were coming, hide, _hide!_ His eyes darted every which way, but his mind blanked out on him.

Then he remembered. His wings.

Two Providence agents emerged from the bush and aimed their guns at him. "Freeze!"

P.T. spread his wings, crouched, and kicked off of the ground. Bullets whizzed by his ears and radio garble sounded from all around, but he didn't care.

For the first time in nearly four years, P.T. _flew._

His smile was wide and pure as he pumped his arms — his _wings!_ — and as the familiar flutter in his chest stirred. The trees shrank beneath his feet, and he could see the entire Petting Zoo, from the dry forest to the swampy wetlands to the massive, gear-like waterfall fountain connected to the Tower.

And now that he could fly again, this little world was his. Nothing could hide from him. No one could get him. He was untouchable. P.T. was once again the king of the skies.

More guns fired at him, just grazing his feet, which was close enough to snap the Evo out of his nostalgia. He dipped and twirled through the air, evading and averting enemy fire like the rusty master he was. It was hasty, disoriented, and inelegant, but it worked.

Suddenly, there was a faint cry from down below. One of the many agents scattered throughout the Zoo abruptly ceased fire. A twinge of urgency rose up in P.T. when he realized that it was near the cluster of Elephant Ear plants.

_Nameless!_

He soared straight down to earth, touched down, and ran for the noise. The other Providence agents ceased fire and pursued him on foot. P.T. could hear the crunching of boots in every direction, but he wasn't thinking about that. All that mattered was making sure Nameless hadn't been found.

As he approached the hiding spot, a smell suddenly caught him. It was thick, sharp, potent, and nauseating. The sheer power of it sent a wave of terror through him because he knew what it was, and he knew what it meant.

P.T. smelt blood in the air.

He saw the cluster of Elephant Ears now. The smell hung heavy in the air, and it made P.T. want to gag, but he couldn't give in to his nausea. Not now.

When he approached the cluster though, his heart stopped and caught in his throat. Blood stained the massive leaves. It dripped down their stems, it was splattered all over the ground — oh gods, he was _stepping_ in it! — and even painted some neighboring trees red.

P.T. moaned and clutched his stomach. He tried keeping himself calm for all he was worth, tried to breathe it out, but he was breathing in the _stench!_ The _stench_ and the _blood_ and oh, it was too much—

P.T. didn't give himself a chance to heave. The need to know was overwhelming now. He lashed out, disregarded the red that coated his wings, and pushed the leaves aside.

Nameless was gone.


End file.
